


A Taste of Us

by yozra



Series: Tales from the Tea Room [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M, bokuaka week day 1, except it's a tea room!, tea tasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yozra/pseuds/yozra
Summary: Akaashi and Bokuto do some tea tasting.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Tales from the Tea Room [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1245194
Comments: 13
Kudos: 42





	A Taste of Us

**Author's Note:**

> ~~confession~~ | ~~childhood friends~~ | coffee shop/bookstore _(/tea room)_ au

It was early morning, where wispy clouds filtered sunrays to pleasantly warm the skin, curbing the nippy dregs of winter.  
  
Akaashi regretted picking such a fine day to remain indoors, going so far as to message Bokuto, apologising and asking to consider shelving their activity for one suitable to the weather – taking a stroll in the park or going in search of a local festival. As soon as he put his phone down beside his steaming cup of breakfast tea, it lit up with a buzz instantly followed by another, stamps with ‘no!’ and unhappy faces popping up until Akaashi reopened their chat to find Bokuto insisting he reconsider, that he had been looking forward to their activity since mentioning it on their first date, and had been hoping to broaden his understanding of tea.  
  
Like a Jasmine pearl, Akaashi’s affection unfurled with Bokuto’s warming words. He sent a reply admitting he had been looking forward to it as well, and would be waiting for Bokuto at the tea room. After a moment’s thought, he added Bokuto was welcome to visit earlier if he wished.  
  
Not so long after, Akaashi was setting down a jar on the counter, the last of four completing the set they would be drinking. He glanced at the clock – still over half an hour before their meeting time – and back down to the counter; he twisted the jars around so the labels faced outwards, easily viewable from the table in front.  
  
Nerves were getting the better of him even after his (overall) successful first date – which was silly, because they were doing exactly what they did normally, only it was light outside, and extra teas and flavours were involved.  
  
The bells jingled light-heartedly, and Bokuto entered, him and his smile brightening the room (Akaashi secretly wondered if Bokuto had arrived even earlier and timed it so he wouldn’t seem more eager than he already was.)  
  
“Morning, Akaashi! I hope this isn’t too early, I just couldn’t wait any longer!”  
  
His guess was probably correct, that Bokuto had been waiting somewhere. “Good morning, Bokuto-san. You would only have been too early if you arrived before I did.” Almost impossible to do when Akaashi had quickly changed and left as soon as his cup was drained, deciding to busy himself by giving the room a good sweep and wipe; even Bokuto wouldn’t think to arrive two hours early.  
  
_Or maybe…?_ Akaashi shook off the thought.  
  
Bokuto came striding up to the counter, hunching to scan the labels. “Are these what we’re trying? And the cups! I haven’t used these ones before!”  
  
Out of the four jars, three were accompanied by a set of teapot and cup, the fourth a mug, each with distinct patterns and shapes to suit the mood of the tea.  
  
“That would be because you often have the herbal blends. As for the teas today, since you said you didn’t mind what teas to try and we’re meeting during the day, I decided on three classic black teas, and a fourth I created recently for the warmer weather.”  
  
“That sounds great!”  
  
“In that case, if you would like to take your seat, I’ll prepare the teas and bring them over.”  
  
Bokuto headed straight to his usual table while Akaashi picked up the jar accompanying the mug and swept into the kitchen, heading for the gas stove – he turned one on for boiling the kettle and one for a pot of water into which he would add the tea for the mug.  
  
It took ten minutes of waiting – bringing the water to a boil, making the mug of tea, shuffling back and forth between rooms snatching conversations, mainly about Bokuto’s spring holiday. Bokuto was still regularly going into school, wrapping up loose ends of the previous year and preparing new ones for the next, although he had a handful of days completely to himself; Akaashi considered himself lucky two of those fell on Tuesdays.  
  
Once all the liquids had been poured – the teas into their pots and mug, and lastly the easily forgotten water into a glass – Akaashi set down, on the next closest table, the tray holding the last of the preparations – a plate of scones, a small bowl of clotted cream and a partitioned plate of strawberry, blueberry and apricot jam. He then took his seat opposite Bokuto, inhaling the fruit and spices and all-important tea, and slowly exhaled the tension he didn’t know he had been holding.  
  
“I thought perhaps you could taste them all first before giving your initial impressions, and then we could drink as we do normally, with the scones. I’m afraid these are just leftovers from last night.” Akaashi was sure he hadn’t mentioned what he would be doing today, neither to Iwaizumi nor the others, yet after they had finished last night, he found a surplus of baked goods on top of his usual surplus. This left one route – a recently added route – through which information could have reached his baker.  
  
Bokuto licked his lips, shifting in his seat from giddiness. “I don’t mind, any chance to eat Iwaizumi’s food! I don’t know if I’ll be any good at describing the teas though…”  
  
“Please describe them in the way they naturally come to you.” In other words, the most direct for the most impact.  
  
Akaashi lifted the first teapot – white bergamot flowers and their leaves painted onto fine china, gold lining the rim, handle and base – and poured the tea, a dark liquid with a faintly floral aroma.  
  
“This is the customers’ favourite, the Earl Grey, a black tea with bergamot, which is a type of citrus. I blend the black leaves with dried bergamot peels, which I favour over oil because it is less overpowering, perhaps accounting for its popularity. You can drink it straight, or add a slice of lemon or milk. And of course, sugar.”  
  
“How do you usually drink it?”  
  
“I like it unsweetened with a dash of milk.”  
  
“Then I’ll do the same!” Bokuto lifted the plain white milk jug and paused as he held it over the cup.  
  
“…How much milk?”  
  
“Would you like me to do it?”  
  
Bokuto’s smile was a sheepish ‘please’ and he passed the jug over. Akaashi did the honours, almost adding more than he would for himself thinking Bokuto might prefer a milder drink, but stopped sharp before running a drop over; he had a small desire to see how Bokuto would fare with his favourite tastes. Akaashi swirled the liquid – no clinking from him, except for the two quiet notes of finality as he placed the teaspoon onto the saucer.  
  
The cup being lifted by Bokuto still looked extra small in his hands, though Akaashi knew first hand it was well protected, and Bokuto took a sip; a hum followed, with slow nodding, and Akaashi wondered if Bokuto knew what he was tasting or if he was putting on an air of sounding and acting like he did. Likely the second option, but Akaashi didn’t point this out. In fact, it was endearing to watch.  
  
When Bokuto put the cup carefully down and glanced expectedly at him, Akaashi continued. “The next is another black tea – the English breakfast. I use two tea leaves, Assam and Darjeeling, with a higher ratio of Assam to make the taste full-bodied.” Akaashi poured the tea out a teapot that reminded him of a plump, polished chestnut, which he liked to cradle in his hands when washing and drying; the cup, too, was rounded at the base, and once filled looked like it was sated with a bellyful of tea. “I personally add milk to this as well, though I like it slightly on the strong side.”  
  
“Then I’ll have what you have!”  
  
Akaashi decided to stop mentioning how he drank his tea and just set the taste to his usual preference.  
  
Another hum followed Bokuto’s sip, though this one sounded surprised – Akaashi made a mental note.  
  
The third tea had already been poured, sitting in a clay, orange-brown mug. All his mugs were earth-toned and shaped to be thick, heavy and needing two hands to hold comfortably.  
  
“This is Masala chai, a black tea brewed together with milk and spices. I change the blend depending on the season, adding larger proportions of warming spices like cinnamon and ginger during the winter months, or fennel during the summer to help keep the body cool. This is the winter variation.”  
  
Bokuto lifted the cup and stopped when the rim touched his lips; he took longer to inhale the aroma. “It smells really nice,” he commented simply, and sipped. Enthusiastic nodding accompanied his higher-pitched hum. “I bet this would be great to drink outside in the cold.”  
  
“Would you like to?”  
  
Bokuto considered the question seriously and shook his head. “Maybe next time. I don’t want to focus on this tea more than others, it wouldn’t be fair.”  
  
Akaashi inwardly smiled.  
  
The final tea set had a brownish-pink base brushed fast and loose, compared to the carefully placed white dots forming little flowers, and was a perfect complement to the juicy red liquid Akaashi had chosen.  
  
“This is a blend of berries, hibiscus and vanilla, to be drank either hot or cold. Last year, I used mint as the base, and wanted to try a fruitier option this year. I asked for opinions from Iwaizumi-san and the others, but was hoping for a customer’s point of view.”  
  
“It looks really tasty!”  
  
Bokuto lifted this tea faster to his lips and took the longest sip, his nodding the most vigorous out of the four as he put the cup down.  
  
“How did you find the tastes? Were there any you preferred over others?”  
  
Bokuto furrowed his brows as he looked from one to the next and then back again along the row of teas.  
  
“I liked the breakfast more than the Earl Grey because it was – you said full-bodied, right? It wasn’t like the bottled milk teas you get at the store – nowhere near as sweet either – and between the two, the Earl Grey reminded me of that. Not that I don’t like it—!”  
  
“You’re allowed to express how flavours don’t match your palette as much as how they do, neither I nor the tea will be offended. I lean towards certain flavours myself, and even these fluctuate with my mood.”  
  
“Oh – okay then.” Bokuto’s smile relaxed. “I liked the strength of the breakfast – it felt like it was giving me a big push to go out there and face the day! And I loved the Masala chai! Though I couldn’t really taste what spice was what – not that I know much about spices – maybe I should do a spice tasting session, too.” Bokuto laughed at himself. “But besides that, I loved the way the spices made me feel, they made me warm, a different kind of relaxing to my usual tea. And the berry tea, it was punchy, like a mouthful of summer – I bet it’ll be a huge hit with everyone!”  
  
During this time, Akaashi compiled a mental list, jotting down his observations and filing it under Bokuto’s name. “Would you say there’s room for improvement?”  
  
“I don’t think I can say improvement…” Bokuto lifted the cup back to his lips, taking a bigger sip, holding the liquid longer in his mouth before swallowing. “Maybe I’d want it sweeter, the sourness sort of makes my tongue feel numb – but that’s just what I like, I bet people who know their teas would say it’s great as it is.”  
  
“No, your opinion is justified and extremely helpful. I may ask you to try the tea again after making a few adjustments.”  
  
“Any time!”  
  
Maybe adding a sweeter fruit – a seasonal fruit – white peach? That would offset the sourness. And eliminate one… the blackcurrant. Or should he leave that in and opt for adding honey instead—  
  
“Akaashi. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”  
  
Akaashi raised his head at the same time he lowered his hands to below the table, his left squeezing his right. Bokuto had changed his demeanour, dropping the humour to one serious, and it could only mean one thing—  
  
He wanted to talk about what happened.  
  
“…Please do.”  
  
“You remember how, in our last date, you asked what drink I thought you were?”  
  
Nails dug into his skin, trying to bite through. “Yes.” Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to elaborate more than that.  
  
“I wondered… what kind of drink you thought I might be?”  
  
“Oh—” Akaashi stopped grinding bones. This was about tea. He should have known better than to think Bokuto would rummage for more of his past. “I’ve actually been asking myself the very same question.”  
  
“Really?” Bokuto’s good humour returned. “What did you come up with?”  
  
“I’m afraid I haven’t been able to place my finger on it.”  
  
Bokuto’s shoulders slumped a little, but he didn’t seem disappointed. “Is that ’cause we don’t know each other well?”  
  
“That may be a factor. I like to believe my general impression of you is accurate, though they need to be confirmed.”  
  
“What’s your general impression?”  
  
To say straightforwardly that Bokuto was kind-hearted, passionate, energising and sensitive needed courage he didn’t have. Akaashi racked just brains for a suitable comparison, looking down at his hands as he massaged his dented skin.  
  
“When I drink a warm cup of tea, I first inhale the aroma, which relaxes my mood and sets my taste buds ready. When I swallow my first mouthful, the drink warms me – first directly, from the liquid sliding down to my stomach, and then indirectly, as warmth seeps into the rest of my body. My thoughts grow mellow. My emotions steady.  
  
“This is how you make me feel.”  
  
Akaashi lifted his gaze higher onto the table with the families of pots and cups and teas; the scene brought him comfort, old friends offering encouragement. “However, I haven’t decided the specificities that determine each state. Does my mellowness incite contemplation or reinvigoration? At what degree do my emotions stop along the range of neutrality and positivity? The ingredients would determine these traits, and they are what I have yet to test and measure.”  
  
He glanced up to check on Bokuto—  
  
Bokuto stared, stunned. Eyes wise and mouth slightly parted, his fingertips pressed lightly against the cup – Akaashi hoped it wouldn’t slip from his fingers growing limp having forgotten he was still holding his tea.  
  
“Is that too much—?”  
  
“No—” Bokuto startled and shook his head; the red liquid sloshed dangerously close to the rim. “Just hearing you say that makes me all warm inside. Like the spices.”  
  
Akaashi almost cracked a smile. “Please know I plan on creating your own personal blend in due course.”  
  
Now Bokuto nodded furiously, the liquid changing course to move with him. “Whenever you’re ready! But even if you can’t, it wouldn’t matter. Because you’ve already compared me to what you love so much in your life.”  
  
…Love…  
  
Was this what he felt towards Bokuto? Tea had become a necessity in his life; should someone ask him to give it up completely, or switch to another – back to coffee, for instance – there wasn’t a prize or compensation suitable enough to fill the void. He had already twice experienced Bokuto’s sudden absence, and both times created the same anxiety he thought he would feel if tea was wrenched from him.  
  
In which case, maybe Bokuto was right.  
  
“That’s not what I meant!” Bokuto yelled, startling him. “I meant tea’s _important_ to you and – not that I’m saying I’m important, I’m no where near, and I’m definitely not trying to push myself into your life—”  
  
“Bokuto-san, would you like to try another blend?” Even as he said it, it didn’t sound strained, so Bokuto should be able to tell he wasn’t upset. He added a small smile after the question – coming easily when it expressed his appreciation for Bokuto’s words, but also that he didn’t want Bokuto upsetting himself by stumbling and falling when their day was starting off so well. That this wasn’t the time. Not quite.  
  
Bokuto studied him, and then a small smile also appeared, just like the filtered sunlight Akaashi felt on his walk here. Bokuto slowly set the cup down. “Can I drink my usual tea? That was a lot of new flavours… I enjoyed them all and I’ll be drinking what’s left! I just want something familiar to taste and see on the table.”  
  
“Of course.” Akaashi pushed himself up off his chair and he remained standing, taking a second to battle between keeping silent and speaking his mind; for once the latter won. “That reminds me. I wanted to thank you.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“The visit to the tea shop. I was inspired to make dessert variations with the blends I already use here and was struck by the idea of grating apple into your relaxing blend—”  
  
“I love apples!”  
  
“Although if you’re wanting something familiar, we can leave it for another time—”  
  
“I want to try it! If you don’t mind making it? It’s great you got inspired! You know, that reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to tell you, too.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Bokuto reached over and took his right hand—  
  
“Thank you, Akaashi, for coming that day. Thank you for giving us a chance.”  
  
Akaashi still wasn’t used to the feel of someone touching him so casually yet tenderly, effortlessly reaching out to him, restoring him with the smallest of touches. He was sure Bokuto didn’t know he was doing it, or what effect he and his gestures had, and while Akaashi was far from being able to form the right words, he noted the trait down, amongst others he was piecing together, so that he could one day compile a recipe for a drink that embodied Bokuto and the emotions he stirred within him.  
  
Before Akaashi could form a reply, Bokuto let him go. “Hey – can I make a note of the teas and their ingredients? Or is that top secret information only employees can know?”  
  
The teasing grin caught him by surprise, and Akaashi had to laugh, softly and lasting only the duration of his exhale. It was amazing how Bokuto lifted his spirits.  
  
“Yes, Bokuto-san, you can write them down. I’ll prepare your tea, and we can go through them together.”  
  
Akaashi went behind the counter to head out – and stopped by the doorway, glancing back at Bokuto pulling his planner from his bag and, realising the table was full, placing it on his lap to shift the cups and pots further back to create space.  
  
He picked up the last cup – the rotund, satiated cup – and paused, tasting it again and murmuring something to himself. He smiled.  
  
_Assam_ , Akaashi thought, the ingredient slotting seamlessly into place, and he walked on through into the kitchen.  
  
  



End file.
